made each other shine like stars bound by gravity
by foresters
Summary: Arthur/Merlin AU where they've grown up together as best friends. Non-canon.


Two young boys run through a never-ending garden. They're twelve and their faces shine like stars. A young nanny chases after them, and her brown hair falls in ringlets around her shoulders as she stops to smile and shake her head.

Dark hair and light, the moon and the sun, magic and might.

Arthur and Merlin. Merlin and Arthur. The names go together just so, they roll off the tongue and one never questions why they've never seen the two apart. It's just meant to be that with Arthur comes Merlin and with Merlin comes Arthur. One after another but interchangeably so, as if it doesn't matter at all which order they'll arrive in because they'll arrive together and one without the other would be as hopeless as none at all.

* * *

They hop over ponds and dive between hedges, escaping the castle and playing pretend. When they're in the gardens there's knights and dragons and swordfighting and magic. Though what's important is what isn't there. There are no rules, no fathers, no duties, no studies, no manners…the list goes on. Their wildest dreams become real. Almost.

Their fantasy is nearly there until Guinevere gently pats Arthur on his head.

"Arthur", her voice is singsong and sincere. "Your father is looking for you. But you knew that of course."

Arthur blushes and looks down, his bangs falling over his face. Merlin guffaws at Arthur's sudden bashfulness. His smile is like sunshine and his Adam's apple bobs in his throat. It was only last week that Arthur and Merlin had gotten into the ale and Arthur told Merlin that he thought Guinevere had pretty eyes. Merlin had laughed and joked about the impossibility of her ever thinking of Arthur as more than a spoiled brat but to be honest, Merlin felt a little jealous. He wasn't able to tell whether he was jealous about the fact that he had liked Gwen's eyes too or that Arthur liked Gwen's eyes at all.

Gwen turns to Merlin, "Merlin. You're supposed to be in piano lessons!" She tilts her head and smiles.

It's their routine really. This happened every day, sometimes twice. Arthur and Merlin would slip out somehow, and Guinevere, almost on instinct would search the gardens. If she were truthful she'd admit that she always took her time when searching for the boys. She'd stop and put a flower in her hair, or she'd circle the same area twice, sometimes she'd even spot them and leave them at their games for five more minutes. It wasn't that boys will be boys, it was that Arthur and Merlin will be Arthur and Merlin.

It's Merlin's turn to be embarrassed. His ears turn bright pink.

"I'm no good at piano. You know that! I shouldn't have to do it at all!" Merlin turns his head and sighs in frustration.

Arthur shoves Merlin with his elbow and agrees. "Yeah Merlin's no good at anything, let alone piano! His fingers aren't even capable of buttoning his shirt!" Arthur points at Merlin's button-down.

Merlin shoves him back and chuckles. Gwen smiles as she does and she nods.

"Alright boys. Five more minutes. I'm counting!" and she turns to walk back to a bench near their end of the garden.

* * *

Sometimes they fight. Sometimes it's subtle, sometimes it isn't.

It's Valentine's Day. They're fifteen.

Morgana grabs Merlin's arm, yanks it really, pulling him into a dark corner. Merlin can't even steady his balance, can't even stand upright before he feels soft lips against his. His mouth's half open and he's never been kissed before, he doesn't even know what to do. He just closes his eyes and puts his hand on her shoulder. _This feels nice, _He thinks. He wonders what other places on Morgana's body would make him feel nice.

She pulls away and smiles. A light blush comes over her face and it makes Merlin blush too. He figures it's because he's never seen Morgana blush; he never knew she was even capable of embarrassment.

Still the green dress she's wearing fits her well, and her lips are soft, and her breath smells nice, and before he knows it she's kissing him again.

Arthur catches them. He looks absolutely livid. After all, he did just catch his best mate kissing his sister. Stuff of nightmares one would imagine. He scolds Morgana, shoos her away. Then he pats Merlin on the back hard and cracks a smile.

"Good job mate. Bit out of your league though!", he jokes and digs his fist in-between Merlin's shoulder blades.

Merlin doesn't understand. He doesn't understand how Arthur isn't pulling him by the collar and pushing him against the wall, with the threat of telling Uther hanging over him. Arthur doesn't think he does either but he doesn't want to seem weak. He doesn't know what he wants to seem.

Merlin and Morgana. Kissing. Stuff of nightmares, all the same. Arthur just isn't sure whether it's because it'd drive a wedge into his and Merlin's (what Arthur thought was unbreakable) camaraderie and leave him as a pitiful third wheel or if it's because he doesn't think Merlin's good enough for his sister. After much thought, Arthur knows why the two of them kissing bothers him so much after all.

* * *

Over the years the boys grow apart. Not by much, but still. They grow into men and they change in little ways, but ways still noticeable to one another. Pretend fights have become real ones, and pretend cuts have become real scars, and pretend crushes have become real romances.

There's studies and obligations, and there's sickness and there's death. It puts a strain on parts of their friendship. There are little codewords and phrases and gestures that they make, and the other always knows what it means.

But the garden, the garden is all theirs. It always will be. Just as the fates had aligned their destinies with one another, the garden had become their safe haven. Even long after Merlin's family left the castle, and long after Uther's death, they still came to meet in the garden. In it anything was possible.

Sometimes in the dark Arthur would whisper for Merlin to run. His voice would be everywhere and nowhere at the same time, evasive and inescapable like a breath in Merlin's lungs. And Merlin would trip into a flowerbed or bump his hip against a tree. Arthur would suddenly be there, laughing and in plain sight. Maybe sometimes he'd secretly hope Merlin would trip into his arms.

They'd spill secrets and wishes and hopes and dreams. They'd confess things they'd somehow never confessed to one another in all the years they ever spent together. They'd laugh and they'd cry and they'd fight too.

And they'd kiss. Merlin would feel Arthur's body on top of his in the moonlight and his heart would feel like a drum. Arthur's mouth would taste sweet like berries. And Merlin's tongue would lick like flames all over his body. Arthur would swear that he could hear the sweetest music ever played and he'd dig his fingers into the warm summer soil like he was gripping onto the last of his humanity. Maybe he was.

When it was all over they'd just smile and laugh some more like the oldest of friends and the newest of lovers.

* * *

Two young boys run through a never-ending garden. They're much older than they look and their faces shine like stars.

Dark hair and light, the moon and the sun, magic and might.

Arthur and Merlin. Merlin and Arthur. The names go together just so, they roll off the tongue and one never questions why they've never seen the two apart. It's just meant to be that with Arthur comes Merlin and with Merlin comes Arthur. One after another but interchangeably so, as if it doesn't matter at all which order they'll arrive in because they'll arrive together and one without the other would be as hopeless as none at all.

fin.


End file.
